Crimson Embrace
by Aleeab4u
Summary: A dark, adult, alternate beginning to the Twilight series based on a 'what if' premise. What if the Cullens weren't always perfect, what if sometimes they indulged! 2 chapters only, E/B canon couples AU. Contains Darkward lemon. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**A/N To everyone who has been reading my two other fics, don't worry. I haven't abandoned them. The lovely lemony DFE is however on temporary hiatus while I finish up FBR. Since FBR is currently lemonless and consuming me with its darkness, I give you this to tide you over. It's been plaguing my mind for months and so it needed to be purged. It was meant to be a one-shot, but anyone who knows my writing probably understands that doing anything 'short' is a talent I don't have, lol. So I've broken it into two parts. The story is written in it's entirety, so if I get some signs of approval and encouragement you will have Part Two tomorrow.**

**This is meant to be a alternate darker, mature beginning to the Twilight saga based on a 'what if' premise. What if the Cullen's weren't always so perfect? What if, once a year they indulged their true appetites? How would it have changed things for Bella and Edward, if their first meeting happened during just such a night?**

**Thanks SydneyAlice for all your help. You rock girl!**

**Happy belated b-day to my lovely Cella.**

* * *

Vampire by People in Planes

_Who is the fly in your champagne_

_Who's got the body and who's got the brain_

_I'll take your blood and I'll kill my pain_

_You are the one that I desire;_

_You are the dark_

_I'm the vampire_

**Crimson Embrace **

**Part One**

Leaning back in my chair I watch the crowd with what can only be described as lackluster indifference. The dj is currently mutilating yet another track of techno dance music at its worst and the entire club, complete with overly done neon lighting, is ripe with the smells of human sweat and alcohol.

I am bored senseless, nearly to the point of brain death and I glare at Alice who smiles back, her pixie features alight with pleasure despite my obvious irritation. This is not my choice of hunting grounds and she damn well knows it.

"Stop scowling, Edward," she reprimands with a small tinkling laugh. "You are freaking people out."

The fact that our table is, and has remained for the most part, the only table in the entire place that isn't surrounded by people proves her point. Humans are at times smarter than our kind gives them credit for. Our beauty and long list of accompanying lures pulls them towards us like magnets, but it can just as equally repel if we are indifferent to their presence, as I am now. Should I choose to attract them they would come, equally excited and afraid and completely helpless to deny me. That is the whole reason for our presence here in the first place. Alice is certain that I will find what I am seeking in the mass of bodies crammed on the dance floor. She has seen it, and while I will rarely bet against my sister's gift for psychic vision, several hours have passed and not one of these vapid children has sparked my interest.

Emmett spins his glass, sloshing the noxious substance inside and adding to the alcohol scent that I find mildly repulsive. "I still don't get it. Why the hell do they call this thing Sex on the Beach? How can a drink be like having sex on a beach? Rose and I have done it on the beach lots of time. Slightly overrated if you ask me. Even vampires don't like sand up in the crack of the ass. And I would know; she always makes me take the bottom so she doesn't get sand in her hair."

Ignoring Emmett completely, I lean towards Alice. "I told you that I was fine with you choosing for me this year, Alice. I didn't say I was up for an entire evening of torture. I could have found an addict in an alley two hours ago and already been on my way home."

Jasper grimaces slightly at my mention of an addict. His taste is much more discriminating, and my penchant for the lower dregs of human society have always amused and repulsed him. "Honestly, Edward. We indulge so rarely, why are you always so insistent on wasting the opportunity on the lowest creature you can possibly find."

Shrugging indifferently, I lean farther back in my chair. "Probably for the same reason you insist on wasting yours on the first pretty female whose physical attributes outweigh her brain mass."

Guffawing loudly, Emmett slaps Jasper on the back. "Yeah, that blond you found was hot. Lucky bastard. Rose would rip my balls off and lock them in a safe for a month if I made a meal out of a looker like that." He stretches and the chair beneath him groans under the increased pressure of his large frame. He loves to play the poor put upon husband, but the truth is he prefers his meals to offer more resistance than the female kind can provide. He's been eyeing the bouncer all night and I am fairly certain the muscle bound club employee will be on a police roster of missing persons within the next 48 hours. Yet another reason why Alice's choice for me is a bad idea. Having more than one human disappear from the same location in the same night sets a very bad precedent.

"It doesn't matter, Edward. By tomorrow morning we'll be in Forks, Washington. Thousands of miles away from Phoenix. You need to lighten up and trust me." There are times when she acts more like she has my mind reading abilities than the psychic of the family. No doubt she has merely foreseen my decision to leave based on my concerns. Her thoughts confirm my suspicion at the same time I think them, and she sticks her tongue out at me. Despite my bad mood, I can't help but smile ruefully. She laughs again and a human male too intoxicated to notice or care about the wide berth everyone else is giving our table moves closer, entranced. His thoughts are an unpleasant mix of lust and bravado. Jasper bears his teeth at him and he instantly rethinks his direction. Alice pats his hand indulgently all the while keeping her eyes on me.

"Edward, please. A little trust and patience?"

I roll my eyes but remain seated despite the ever increasing desire to renege on my acquiescence to her desires. This isn't the first time I've allowed her to choose my - for lack of a better word - meal. Although we only indulge our true appetites once a year, I have been a vampire for over a century and Alice has been my sister for nearly half as long. I've allowed her to choose for me on several occasions. An indulgence I grant because it pleases her to do so. Unlike my other siblings, the act of choosing has never held a strong appeal, but then I am more like my Father and creator than they are. Being able to resist my baser impulses is a trait I learned from Carlisle. A trait that my siblings love to say I've turned into an art form. I don't necessarily believe that my will power is any stronger than theirs; I merely do not have a preference for one type of human over another. They on the other hand have very strong preferences, ones I regard with equal amounts of amusement and dismay.

Emmett for instance is stronger than most vampires and he enjoys playing with his food. He unvaryingly searches out human males who - were he human - might provide him with some type of challenge. He is not human and there is not a mortal creature alive that embodies even one tenth of his strength. He is therefore unvaryingly disappointed with his choice.

Jasper on the other hand has always had a weakness for the fairer sex. While his commitment and love for Alice are unwavering, he simply cannot resist a pretty face. Alice, though she will not admit it, is the same. Her penchant for effeminate and ethereal males is the very reason she does not begrudge Jasper his appetites.

Rosalie, Emmett's mate and my undeniably beautiful, spoiled, volatile sister is just as equally driven by appearance in her choices, albeit for different reasons. Rosalie is ruled by her vanity. She chooses beautiful victims not because of attraction, but merely because she cannot stand rivals. Even in creatures she considers substandard. If a female, or a male for that matter, possesses enough beauty to garner attention that might come anywhere near what she receives, her choice is instantly made. Rosalie hates competition.

I on the other hand have no such inclinations. One human is the same to me as the next, no matter the outside package. Feeding is a necessity, and while I enjoy our once yearly indulgence in human blood greatly, I find it neither a sexual titillation nor a sport. In between our yearly indulgence we dine solely on the blood of animals. While the practice keeps us strong and allows us to live for long periods of time in one place where we can attempt to blend into society, it leaves little to be desired in the way of satisfaction. Like a human trying to exist on tofu, the boredom and craving for more becomes torturous after awhile. So when we indulge in our true food source, I find my one and only criteria is easily met. My victim need only be human. Looking around this room I see well over a hundred possibilities. The fact that Alice seems to feel that one is any better than another for me is absurd. Because I love her, I decide to give her one more hour to find what she is looking for.

Again as though she's read my mind she squeals and claps her hands, all but bouncing in her seat with delight. "You won't regret it, Edward. I know she'll be here any minute now."

_She'll._ My eyes narrow and my small but dark hiss of disapproval at her slip makes her smile fall away. I rarely choose female victims. My human memories are faded to near nothingness, but residuals of the life I once led still cling to me. Being born and raised in the early parts of the nineteenth century instilled a certain chivalry and morality that became deeply ingrained and unchangeable during my transformation from mortal to immortal. Alice knows very well that this side of my personality will often balk at choosing a female over a male. Not out of preference, but merely out of habit.

Before I can voice my displeasure, Emmett turns away from his perusal of the crowd on the dance floor. His mind musings on whether or not he wanted to tear the arm off the human male who was trying to cop a feel on Rose end abruptly as he too catches Alice's slip.

"You picked a girl for Eddy, Alice?" His laughter is loud enough to draw several started stares. "He doesn't do girls," he adds with a wink. "No pun intended, okay, well maybe a little pun intended." He laughs louder.

I ignore him, again. Emmett decided over a decade ago that my ongoing celibacy meant I was gay. The fact that I don't fornicate with men doesn't faze him; he merely attributes that knowledge to my unusually high standards of morality. In other words, he thinks I'm in the closet.

"Alice!" My glare is directed at her but two females who have been admiring Emmett's muscles and wondering if all parts of him are as large cringe and turn around.

She crosses her arms over her chest, a pretty pout pursing her lips. "You said you'd let me choose, Edward, and you didn't give me any rules."

She's right, I didn't. Having allowed her to choose in the past has never caused me any problems. But nothing so far tonight is like any of those past situations. Having me sit in a nightclub for two hours in a city that we would normally avoid simply because of the near constant sunshine is not typical. Choosing a female is not typical. I narrow my eyes at her and try to get further inside her head. She starts thinking about the male she'd fed off earlier tonight with an intensity and attention to detail that guarantees I will leave her mind alone. My eyes narrow even more, suspicion filling me.

"What are you up to, Alice?"

She doesn't answer, her expression growing suddenly distant. Her mind leaves her memories and suddenly shows me images of a dark haired girl stumbling through the door of the club.

"Never mind," she whispers, an expression of pleasure crossing her face. "She's here." Despite myself, I instantly seek out the door and watch as what I'd just seen in her mind only seconds ago plays out in real life.

"Her?" I am unable to keep the disbelief from my tone. The tiny slip of a girl stumbles over yet another unseen obstacle and bites her lip, blushing at her own clumsiness. Her long brown hair is undeniably pretty but I can find little else about her that would seem appealing. She makes her way through the crowd, an awkward hesitation to her movements. Dressed in simple blue jeans and a dark blue top she is as nondescript as a brown hen in a flock of swans. Or so I think, but as she continues to make her way towards a table where several other females wait, unaware that her fate is up for grabs, I see her through not only my own eyes, but that of most of the males she passes. A brown hen in a flock of swans stands out, if for no other reason than by being unique. She on the other hand, stands out for much more than that.

What I had originally thought of as nondescript becomes anything but. Her eyes are as brown as her hair and just as lovely. Framed by thick lush lashes, their almond shape is perfectly balanced by her other features. A slightly up-tilted nose, a full soft mouth, a small but proportional chin and cheekbones sculpted to perfection are all framed by a heart shaped face covered in porcelain bisque ivory skin. Skin so perfect and pale it is almost translucent. Even at this distance my vampiric eyesight allows me to see the tiny blue lines that constitute the map work of veins beneath her skin.

Her body at first glance is slender and small, but a new look shows curves in all the right places. Sensual hips, a tiny waist, small but perfect breasts and a roundly curved rear end encased in blue denim. Unlike over 95 percent of the females here, her tiny feet are covered by sensible flat shoes. A choice made all the more sensible by the fact that even the act of sitting seems to trip her up. Despite her obvious coordination difficulties her clumsiness is endearing rather than off-putting, and an odd feeling of protectiveness consumes me. I cannot tell if the feeling is mine or merely a reflection of the male minds that still watch her. What I do know is mine is the instant hot feeling of arousal that stirs over my cold body.

I force my eyes away from her and turn back to Alice. "Her?" I repeat again with the same tone of disbelief. Despite the fact that I can see she is much more attractive than I initially realized, and despite the unaccustomed reaction of my body, I still do not understand why Alice is so certain that this girl should be my choice. Alice keeps her expression blank and her mind quiet, a feat she's perfected over the years when she wants especially to keep something a secret. She cannot keep it up for long however, and I am more than prepared to wait her out. The girl isn't going anywhere far for the time being. I have no intention of making a move until I know what Alice is up too. There are too many questions and oddities in this situation for me to react thoughtlessly. The girl is appealing but I have learned to control my thirst, a few more minutes are nothing to me.

A sudden and glorious smile crosses Alice's face. Her eyes flit away from mine, and I look in the direction that has drawn her gaze to see the girl making her way towards the bar. She passes by our table no more than ten feet away from me. The air currents shift at her passing, swirling the scents of spilled beer, with cheap perfumes, colognes and sweat and..._her_. The smell hits me like a nuclear detonation and every fiber and cell in my dormant body turns rigid. I can feel the rumbling of a deep predatory growl ripple through my suddenly desecrated throat, but I am helpless to stop it. She smells like the sweetest heaven and the most sinful hell all rolled into one and yes, oh yes. She is my choice.

The room and its occupants vanish and all I can see is her. I want her. I need her. I barely notice the chair tipping as I stand, causing it to crash to the floor behind me. Only Emmett's powerful and large hand wrapping with startling speed and biting strength around my shoulder and Jasper's gift stop me from lunging across the small space that separates her from me. One more second and I would have had her, and nothing would have stopped me from draining her dry right here, witnesses be damned.

Waves of Jasper's empathic powers surround me in swaddled layers of fake calm and the room spins back into focus around me. Without releasing me, Emmett reaches down and rights my chair before forcing me back into it. I snarl at him in instant unthinking reaction and Jasper doles out even more of his gift. Rational thought returns and Emmett relaxes his iron grip, settling back into his own chair with a grin.

"See something you like, Edward?"

****************************************************

I've spent the better part of two hours watching her and inhaling her divine unequaled scent. It continues to trigger my thirst in ways no other human ever has, but I have gained a measure of temporary restraint made possible not by my siblings but by the new knowledge I've obtained about my intended prey._ I cannot read her mind. _The thoughts of every human present bombard me from all sides and only my skills at repressing them keep me from going insane. I am not repressing the thoughts of this girl. There simply is nothing to repress. The wall of silence she exudes is so impenetrable she might as well not exist. I have never encountered a human who was resistant to my ability. The novelty of it is enough to have granted her a small reprieve from her inevitable demise.

And it is inevitable. Novelty will not slake the raging thirst that her mere presence imbibes. For now though, I have chosen to bide my time and to study this odd little unique creature. Curiosity is a feeling I'd long forgotten.

From my place in the back shadows I watch her and her friends leave the dance floor. She is laughing and a slight sheen of perspiration makes her flawless skin even more alluring. Her scent is stronger, even more torturous with the increase in her body temperature and I inhale it deeply. The burn that decimates the lining of my throat has a pleasant edge to it now that I've tempered the need it engenders.

Listening to the minds of her friends and watching her every move have been both insightful and frustrating. I've learned that her name is Bella and that despite her clumsy nature she loves to dance. I've learned that once she lets go of her insecurities she has a subtle and beautiful grace of movement that directly contrasts with her ability to trip over her own two feet. She doesn't like beer and she is too young to drink, but that hasn't stopped her. Like many of this club's patrons, her underage status is over looked by the owner and the staff. Even badly forged fake ID is accepted when money is at stake.

The small amount I've learned is pathetically inadequate. Nothing explains either her scent or her mental silence.

As she finishes off the last of her latest drink I realize my opportunity is nearly at hand. Basic human physiology states that what goes in must come out, and the amount of liquids she's consumed in a short span of time will inevitably catch up with her. The affinity that so many human females have for desiring company for such necessary tasks is not one that concerns me. I am more than willing at this point to break every rule to acquire what I want, including the death of one or more inconsequential human.

Moving closer to the destination she will eventually need to reach, I motion to Emmett. He grins and whispers something in Rosalie's ear that makes her look at me speculatively. Ignoring her curiosity in favor of my own, I turn as Emmett moves to my side.

"How attached are you to your possible choice?" I question, indicating the bouncer he'd been considering.

He shrugs in a noncommittal way. "So far it's pretty slim pickings around here; I suppose he's a good enough choice." His expression breaks out in a large grin. "Besides man, watching you stalk is making me hungry, and Rose is getting impatient. She already ate, now she wants her Emmett dessert."

Years of dealing with Emmett and Rose's carnal appetites have made me immune to discomfort. Still, I scowl slightly and roll my eyes, knowing he enjoys getting under my skin. Knowing that I am very close to my own desirous goal eases some of my tension and allows me to humor him.

"I am thinking that he might be useful in procuring my prize." My eyes flit back to her, but I catch his grin from the corner of my eye.

"Let me guess. You want me to clean up afterwards?"

Smiling slightly at his choice of words I nod. "It wouldn't do to have…witnesses."

His laugh is dark as he reads between the lines and his gaze moves from the bouncer to Bella's small group of friends. "All of them then?"

"Only the ones who get in my way."

"Greedy tonight are we?" His question is born on another dark laugh. It stops with my look.

"I only want her. Everything else is inconsequential." I point to the bouncer. "When I'm done with him, he is yours." Moving back into the darker shadows that cling to the outside edges of the club, I settle to bide my time.

***************************************************

I've moved my vantage point several times. Angling my position so that she never gets far from me. Her smell continues to call like a siren but she is fascinating all on her own. I've become greedy and entranced by every nuance of her facial expressions and body language. I've been very careful not to call attention to myself but I watch as her eyes rise from where she sits and unerringly find me. Again. Each time the connection feels intense, like static bolts of electricity and I wonder how she seems to find me no matter where I move. She lowers her eyes just as quickly as the contact begins and yet another small but intoxicating blush floods her scent into the air stronger each time. My mouth is full of venom and I'm so hard it is nearly painful. My thirst is a raging inferno and my patience is nearly at an end.

Finally I see the movement I've been waiting for. She's been watching the line to the one small crowded washroom for over half an hour, trying to weigh her own physical need with the necessity of standing in line. Her shoulders settle with an air of frustrated defeat and she leans across to whisper into the ear of the girl closest to her. Her friends are vapid, vain, annoying things. In an effort to glean some type of information about her I've been forced to listen to their trivial and petty thoughts and gotten little in return. The effort has mostly been wasted. They are consumed with themselves and the meager amounts of attention they've been able to procure from the males around them. The fact that Bella seems to be garnering the most attention is galling and their thoughts have become increasing spiteful and vile towards her. Knowing their thoughts, it does not surprise me when none of them offer to go with her. I find myself disappointed. I would have enjoyed snapping their bitchy jealousy ridden bodies. The flare of protectiveness that consumes me is troubling. I've never felt such an emotion for a human, never mind one I intend to feed from. The contradiction is infuriating though it changes nothing aside from one fact.

I am not, nor have I ever been, a brutal hunter. Yet I am a predator, and mercy is not in my nature. For her and her alone I will make an exception. I will take her gently and quickly, ensuring that she suffers as little as possible. The thought settles my mind and I nod to the bouncer who has been waiting my cue.

It had taken surprisingly little to bribe him to open the currently closed VIP section of the club. Two crisp hundred dollar bills had made their way into his hand and he'd grinned with lascivious thoughts that had made me want to snap his thick, steroid fueled neck. He is a lesser kind of human. One whose thoughts show me that he prefers his women bound and gagged and afraid. His life will not be missed.

As she moves by him he speaks to her and gestures behind him, indicating the area behind the velvet ropes. He's turned on one dim light that illuminates the long hallway that leads to the VIP washrooms. She hesitates, and I can see her eyes moving back and forth between her options. Fate is on my side it would seem as the line up leading to the Ladies room has grown. I can see her biting her bottom lip and eyeing the bouncer with trepidation. She is no fool and the thought pleases me intensely though I have no idea why. If she refuses, my wait will be longer and my patience is gone. I want her now and her reluctance should make me angry at being thwarted. It doesn't. I continue to be pleased by her wariness and the obvious intelligence behind it.

The bouncer is keeping his eyes averted, a careful expression of bored nonchalance crafted on his face while his eyes scan the crowd indifferently. It would seem this isn't his first time playing this type of game and he obviously knows that to look eager or in anyway vested in her decision would scare her off. I find myself hoping that Emmett takes his time with this one.

She bites her bottom lip harder and then suddenly nods, slipping through the opening he's made for her. Her need has outweighed her common sense exactly as I'd hoped it would.

I hear her murmur a quiet 'thanks' enjoying the increase in my desire at the sound of her soft scintillating voice. I am not immune to physical lust but it is such a rarity that it adds a new delicious edge to my thirst. The thought of crushing that tiny delectable body to mine while I fill myself with her sweet, hot blood is nearly orgasmic.

Grateful for the length of my conservative blue button up dress shirt, I slip past the bouncer sliding yet another hundred dollar bill into his pocket. It is unlikely that a dirt bag like him will suddenly grow a conscience, but I am taking no chances. The extra money should be enough to sugar coat any inklings of propriety he may have. His wink and lewd grin show me it was hardly necessary. As I follow her into the poorly lit hallway I decide that Emmett needs to know a few of the juicier tidbits I've picked from his choice's mind.

I time my arrival at the hall entrance to coincide perfectly with her entry through the Ladies room door. As it closes quietly behind her, I reach up and tap two of the light bulbs in the recessed lighting. Just the lightest touch of my fingernails and the bulbs crack. The hallway is instantly thrown into gloom. Only the red exit light remains, casting a faint glow over the walls and floor. Red like blood. My thirst consumes me as her scent, much stronger here away from the other humans, hits me full force.

Glorious. I amend my earlier conditions. I will be gentle but not quick. She is far too intoxicating not to savor.

My wait is brief. Her accelerated heartbeat seems loud here where the music and noise from the crowd is muted. She is anxious about being alone and in a hurry to get back to her friends no doubt. I smile as I hear her running water to wash her hands and lean against the wall. In moments I will have what I want.

The shadows cloak me almost completely. Coming from the brightly lit bathroom will further distort her vision. She will not see me until I want her too. The thrill of expectation is decadent.

When the door opens and she sees the dark hallway, she hesitates. Her heart rate accelerates again, and it is all I can do not to inhale sharply and deeply. The scent, _oh sweet Lucifer_ the scent is consuming, mind boggling and purely mouth watering. I have to stop breathing in order to find my sanity and to remember that I want to savor this moment, not devour it in depraved gluttony.

The light at the end of the hallway is dim, but I know it will act as a beacon, drawing her from the imagined safety of the well lit washroom. She curses softly and with my perfect vision I can see her squint and peer down in my direction. For a second her lovely eyes seem to settle upon me and I feel an odd moment of unease, as if she knows I'm there despite the fact that there is no human way she could possibly detect my presence. She curses softly again, berating herself to get a grip, before stepping back into the washroom. She keeps her foot hooked and placed at the bottom of the door, reaching behind her. Dragging the large garbage container forward, she uses it to prop the door open and the bright lighting from the interior spills out into the hall.

"Ah, clever girl," I whisper under my breath, utterly pleased by her ingenuity even as I scoff at her naivety. No amount of light will deter the monster that awaits her.

She takes a few cautious steps out of the washroom, glances once at the shadows the light can't reach and then begins to hurry down the hall. Smiling, I reach out, shove the door closed, let the shadows fall back into place and then move in front of her. The entire action takes only a fraction of a second. She barely has time to realize the door has closed before I'm there.

"Hello, Bella."

* * *

**A/N A reviewer once declared me the Queen of cliffhangers. I am embracing that title whole heartedly. Mwah ha ha *cough*. Anyway, want more? A little incentive for you is that not only is it already written, its also 90% lemon ;) **

**Feed the lemon tree. You loyal DFE'ers know what I want! :)**

**Aleea**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you to everyone who 'fed the lemon tree'. lol. You guys are awesome!**

Crimson Embrace

Part Two

_"Hello, Bella"_

Her heart literally stops for a half a beat before resuming in a pace that would make a physician alarmed. I press her against the wall and smile. She feels even better than I ever could have imagined. Almost but not quite as good as she smells.

Her bravery is intriguing. Instead of panicking or screaming, she instantly tries to knee me in the groin. Her actions feel more like a caress than a punishment and in my highly aroused state that isn't her wisest course of action. A small groan escapes my throat and I pin her harder to the wall. Her body is every inch as delectable as I'd observed and she fits against me perfectly.

"Let me go," she hisses loudly.

"Mmm, I don't think so little one. I've been watching you all night, imagining this moment. You don't think I'm honestly going to let you go so easily now that I finally have you in my arms." The words are truer than even I realize. I have no inclination of letting her go.

Her heat is enveloping me and her rapid exhalations send puffs of warm, sweet scented breath to bathe the skin of my face and neck. Venom is flowing so copiously I have to swallow repeatedly, and each swallow seems to drag more and more of her scent into my lungs and throat. I feel positively drunk with thirst and lust. _God,_ the lust is unbelievable. Her skin is so soft and delicate. I could break her so easily and it tempers my control as I allow my hand to drift down her waist to the soft swell of her hip.

"Let me go or I'll scream." Her demand is adorable. I let my fingers curl around her hip feeling her divine heat radiating into my cold palm.

"Oh, I certainly hope so." The thought of making her scream is delicious. The pale light is just strong enough to allow her eyes to pick up the silhouette of my shape but little else. As her eyes adjust she will be able to see more of me, and I find myself oddly entranced by the thought. I want her to see me. I want to see her eyes when she realizes that I am the same man she's been watching all night. The desire has me shifting our bodies closer to the pale glow of the exit sign. The light bathes her in crimson and she is impossibly even more beautiful in the blood red lighting.

As the light falls over me, her eyes widen in recognition but something else happens as well. Those static like charges of electricity that I'd paid so little attention to earlier come back times ten, brushing over my dormant skin like a thousand intimate caresses. Her breathing seems to stop for a long moment, and I have the strangest desire to release her and run. As though I am out of my element. As though this tiny, inconsequential girl is somehow a threat to me. Then she inhales deeply, causing her breasts to brush against my chest and the inclination vanishes to be replaced by a much stronger one.

"Have you ever screamed for anyone before, little one?" I drag the tip of one ice cold finger down her cheek in a feather light caress, following the line of her jaw and beneath. Her pulse flutters with incredible strength against my fingers as I wait for her answer. The question does not come out threatening; it slides from my mouth ripe with erotic and seductive overtones.

I drag in another lung full of her sweetness. She smells like an innocent, untouched and pure, and I'm surprised at how pleased that makes me.

"I know who you are!" Not the answer I was looking for at all and a feeling of alarm passes over me. Surely she can't know. Her next words ease that tension. "I saw you, earlier. You've been watching me all night."

"And you've been watching me as well, Bella." She actually blushes at my words. I realize her heart rate has slowed and that she no longer seems afraid. I'm so stunned by that fact that I almost fail to notice her tiny foot bumping against my shin. She's only hurting herself with her struggles and I smile, pushing one of my legs in between hers. It forces her to lean against me for balance as her feet scramble for purchase on the slippery tile flooring. My thigh presses against her intimately, and her pulse picks up again, this time for an entirely different reason.

I allow a low growl to pass from my throat and lean my face closer to hers, searching for fear in her eyes.

"I'm not afraid of you." Her words are breathed through a stuttering whisper, but she isn't completely lying. Most of my human victims have lost the ability to do more than plead at this point, though not her. Her fear is tinged with arousal and the smell of it is just as intoxicating as her blood. I want more.

"You should be afraid," I hiss. I'm beginning to feel strangely out of control. As though she has more power than I do. I want to quench my burning thirst, but I want more than that now. I want to taste more than her blood. I inhale the smell of the skin that cradles her cheekbones. The scent is ambrosia. Flowers and sunshine and sex. Musk and freesia and the subtle undertones of copper and nickel and sustenance. My nose moves closer to her mouth, drinking in the moist air that she exudes.

"You smell...so...unbelievably...good. I want you." My words are a growl. Turning her head slightly the soft, warm, wet touch of her mouth grazes my own and I lose the ability to deny what I need. Pressing her further into the wall I devour her kiss, licking her delicate lips until she gasps and lets me in to the sweet hot depths within. She tastes better than she smells. The sparks are darting up and down my skin now and she's suddenly responding to my kiss as though she is aching just as much as I am.

Impossible. She should be terrified, nearly catatonic with fear. Every human I have ever had has responded as such. There has never been an exception. Not even when they are so intoxicated or drug ridden that they barely understand or know what is happening to them, the fear has taken over. Instead of fear this tiny girl is kissing my cold unnatural mouth with fervor and need. Her small warm hands are rising and twisting their way into my hair, and all thoughts of feeding are being consumed by other needs.

The need to touch, and to be touched in return. The need to bury myself in her hot willing body and hear her scream in pleasure, not in fear. I want her gasping, not in death throes, but in unparalleled pleasure. I want to watch her writhe in pleasure beneath my touch and hear the sounds she makes when she comes.

Tearing myself away from her mouth, I press my bared teeth to her jugular vein. It pulses with the life throbbing away inside of her. The life I've been denied. She arches her neck and I lick her skin. I expect shock and fear at the ice cold touch but she only arches more and whimpers, a pure sex sound that shatters me and puts me back together again all at once. I scrape my teeth oh so lightly against her satin cream skin and she repeats the sound. I want, no I need her blood. The fire of my thirst threatens to turn me to ash. Yet her skin tastes so divine, and I know if I bite the taste of her blood will overshadow this delicate sweetness that is filling my every sense. My cock throbs violently undermining my thirst.

_You can have it all_, my mind whispers with delight. _Take her body, she is willing, she is wanting. Fulfill her need, make her yours and when she takes her climax sink your teeth into her and take her life. She'll barely feel it. A death in sweet ecstasy, the perfect gift of mercy._

My breathing is ragged and shallow as I pull away from her neck. My hands reach up to tangle in her hair and I drag her head back forcefully, exposing more of that creamy column of arched neck. Her pupils are slightly dilated and her breathing is even more ragged than the unnecessary ones that gasp in and out of my mouth.

"You're mine."

Her pulse races and I watch her lick her lips enjoying the flavor I'd left there. Her lips form the word yes, though there is barely any sound and my mouth crashes down on hers again. I don't need more than that. Her willingness is wrong and unfathomable, but nothing has ever felt this right to me.

I press her deeper into the shadows and lift her. Her legs wrap around my waist and her tongue tangles with mine in an intimate dance that soaks me in her flavor.

With my decision to have her made, my movements become slower, more under my control. Her blouse falls open and I lick the lacy material that covers her breast, tugging at the snap on her jeans until it opens. Her hands fist tighter in my hair, while her breathless moans become louder and less controlled. The throbbing of my erection grows with each sound she makes until I am nothing more than electrified. I want more.

Her bra falls to shreds beneath my razor sharp nails while my mouth plays over each dusky peak of her breasts. I lick each nipple until they swell and harden then suck them into my mouth. My ice cold unnatural suckling should shock her, should ignite the fear response she seems incapable of, but her pleasured sighs only grow louder.

Her fragile human body is so breakable, and the need to control my lust adds a new sharp edge to my need. It sweetens the lines of arousal; drawing them tighter and tighter within my body. The amount of control I need to exercise is deliciously taxing, forcing me to savor and enjoy every second of this moment. My head remains clear and every sound she makes, every movement she makes, becomes embedded in my mind like a video. One I will be able to replay for as long as I exist.

Her hips have begun to rock against mine, pressing that soft swollen mound of her sex against the rigid length of mine. Her innocent frenzied movements drag me to the abyss of release. She sobs softly in growing frustration as her pleasure mounts but falls just short of the relief she needs. Moving my mouth back to hers, I hiss against her kiss swollen lips.

"Mine. You are mine do you hear me. Mine, to do with as I please. Mine." My head is full of the declaration and in this moment I find I don't have any need or desire to read her mind. I know everything I need to know, find every answer in her hypnotizing responses. She wants me, aches for me, and she is not afraid.

The smell of her heat is almost unbearable, and the smell of her blood screams at me. I drag my nose up her throat then back down again as my hand moves beneath her jeans and her simple cotton panties. My mouth is drenched in venom and her sex is drenched in need.

She bucks against my hand, crying out. Her fingers are still clenched in my hair and though I recognize she is pulling with fevered strength, it feels like nothing more than a gentle seductive tug to me.

"Mine," I hiss again as she trembles. Her folds part beneath my touch, opening her body as though it was meant for my caress. The heat she exudes is scalding and velvet. I want more.

"Mine." I penetrate her with one cold finger and she bucks harder. Her tiny clitoris is swollen and as I stroke my thumb back and forth over her, the trembling becomes constant.

"Say it." I need suddenly to hear her say the words. I want to own her fully and consensually. "Give yourself to me. Say it." She is very close to orgasm. Her tiny body is clenching and trembling while her heart races in her heaving chest, and I'm beginning to lose the fight to resist her blood. I add a second finger and I can feel the barrier that proves my theory of her innocence. A feeling of possessiveness so strong that it mocks every other one I've had tonight consumes me.

"Say it, now!"

Her back arches away from the wall, and her head falls back as her inner walls begin to clench and spasm around my fingers.

"Yours," she screams, and then shatters, coming apart at my touch.

_Mine._

My mouth moves to her neck, my teeth poised over the artery that pulses hard and fast with the waves of her orgasm and the force of her life. My jaw clenches, and venom drips and overflows as the smell of her blood mixes with the flower musk of skin and her desire. Her hands tighten once more in my hair and one last shuddering cry slides from her mouth. Her body relaxes against me and her face turns towards mine. Soft, warm lips ghost against my cheek, her panting exhalations moist and sweet against my ice cold frozen skin, so that for a moment I almost feel...warm.

"I am yours," she whispers sweetly, one last tiny shudder wracking her body. Something inside buried deep and long dormant cracks open and I tear myself away from her, gone before she can even register the movement.

Not a single human sees my actions. The speed with which I move is not something their duller senses can ever detect. I find the bouncer near the door, standing alone, smoking a cigarette, and I reach out almost with casual indifference. One hand wraps around his throat and he vanishes into the night with me. Unseen and undetected, not a single person looks up or over. No witnesses and his life ends with a mercy he didn't deserve.

* * *

Several months later...

The smells of the cafeteria food are no longer as revolting as they had once been. Just another reminder that I can become accustomed to anything if it is forced upon me for long enough. I shove the tray that holds my own fake meal away with a grimace, tired of the endless boredom and ritual of monotonous high school life. When you've repeated it as many times as I have, it's better to just shut down and go on autopilot. As restless as I've been as of late that task is easier said than done.

Emmett mashes a piece of bread together hard enough to solidify it into a cold, hard ball. He flicks it with force and accuracy at one of the jocks sitting at a corner table. It pings off the back of his neck hard enough to leave a red mark. The child swears loudly and vulgarly, standing and swinging around with violence in his eyes. Emmett grins widely and the boy sits down as abruptly as he stood, his face pale and his expression subdued. No one at his table mocks him for his cowardice.

Emmett snorts and shakes his head. "Pansy," he mutters condescendingly. Rose snaps shut her compact and sighs with boredom. I'm not the only one feeling like a caged lion. The door at the far end of the cafeteria opens and Alice and Jasper sail in and settle at the table with us. They've been away for the last two weeks and they never told us they'd be back today. I've been suspicious since before they left and that suspicion grows now. I ignore Jasper and Emmett's overly aggressive high five greeting to focus on my sister's blank expression.

"So, Edward. Did you hear that we have a new student today?" Her expression remains neutral and her thoughts are carefully controlled, displaying images from her time away in Paris with Jasper and a Spanish translation of The Taming of the Shrew. Her eyes however are sparkling and alive with barely contained excitement.

"I've heard about it repeatedly through the minds of every student in this place for weeks, Alice. It is all anyone can seem to talk about." My words are ripe with disdain. I'm not at all interested in the petty and trivial musings about another child attending Forks High School, and I've completely blocked the mind numbing chatter and excitement for the last 3 days. I've gotten so good at it I hadn't even realized she was here already.

"Well, you might not care, but I do." Her light laugh is musical and pleasant and contrived. My scowl deepens. "Her name is Isabella, isn't that pretty? Isabella Swan, she's the police chief's daughter."

_Swan_. Images I can't seem to repress spill through my head. I grit my teeth and my hands clench so hard around the Formica table I can hear it crack. I've allowed myself only the briefest of flashes from that night in Phoenix, and I'm not about to change that now. For the sake of my sanity I have to forget that girl, that impossibly beautiful, intoxicating creature…

"Edward?" Alice kicks me beneath the table and I loosen my grip. "Are you listening to me?"

"Alice, I told you. I don't care. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to stop at my locker and get my biology text book." It is an effort to move in the confines of human normalcy with my emotions racing like my memories. I manage it and make it to my feet without scaring the lambs surrounding me. Out of the corner of my eye I see the door open again. Her smell hits me long before I see her face and I freeze. There is no mistaking that smell and I realize what a complete and utter fool I've been.

Alice rises to her feet as well, moving to my side. With a soft laugh she leans closer, her lips brushing my ear. "Bella is short for Isabella, Edward," she whispers and as my eyes drink in the sight of the creature that has tortured me for months with her memory, I can feel Alice's smile growing.

"Did you really think I'd lead you to her for no reason, Edward? Really. When will you ever learn to trust me?"

* * *

**A/N I know this may seem like an odd place to end things, but we all know what will happen from this point. There is a possibility I may continue this in the future, but for now we'll call it ...**

**THE END.**

**Oct. 27/2010 For those interested, please visit my profile page for info on this story.  
**


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